


Lies of Omission

by Alternatewarning



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood and Violence, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Ignis will go through hell and back for Noctis, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alternatewarning/pseuds/Alternatewarning
Summary: Some part of Ignis knows that this is out of control, that the cold ghost of hands across his skin is wrong.  That spending his nights wrapped up in a secret will come back to bite him.  But someone has to suffer and he won't let it be Noctis.Whumptober 2020 entry: Number 17: Blackmail/Dirty Secret
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Lies of Omission

Everything was starting to fall apart. The teetering Jenga tower of omissions, half-truths, and bald-faced lies was finally starting to topple just a little faster than Ignis could try to prop it up again with a stiff apology or flattering word. He needed to stay ten steps ahead of the falling blocks, covering them up before anyone noticed anything amiss but he was starting to feel like everyone had seen his attempts at camouflage all along. What was worse, was that it started so small, so simple.

Looking back at the start, it was easy to see where everything started to tilt just off-center enough to make the foundation unstable. He was ten years old, too young to be wise and too smart to be innocent. Unlike most children his age, who were busy roughhousing around with each other, making friends, and learning how to be themselves, he was buried in the responsibilities of someone twice his age. Walk the prince to and from his tutors, attend his own classes, help the prince with his homework, do his own homework, watch the prince’s manners and etiquette in public, attend his own lessons on manners and etiquette. In truth, his job was the crown prince himself. And while that did give Ignis a single-minded goal and focus in life, it also skewed his perceptions. Everything became about the prince, every focus, every thought, every plan. Every decision.

“The little prince’s quarters are this way, aren’t they?” Ignis turned his head, looking up at the owner of the voice. It was one he knew, a member of the King’s royal council, although the man’s name was escaping him at the moment. He held himself with pride, puffing out his chest like a cockatrice, showing off even if no one was paying attention. With a disinterested blink, the boy pushed up his black glasses, turning around to face the man. There was something about his manner that felt uncomfortable.

“Do you have need of Noctis? I can bring a message to him if you would like.” The man huffed out heavily, a balloon deflating. His brown eyes roamed over the boy in front of him before making a quiet tsk behind his teeth. It took all of Ignis’s self-control not to shudder at the chill he felt from those eyes. It was like he was being pulled apart at the seams in a manner of only a few moments. One thing was sure, he was not leaving this spot until the man was gone. He was not going to find Noctis, royal council or not.

“Smart little kid, ain’tcha?” The man spoke as he squatted down and up close he smelled of liquor and smoke. “How’s this sound? I’ll leave your cute little prince alone if you can keep me company for tonight, hm? Or if you won’t then I’ll just have to keep going door to door until I find that little blue-eyed angel.” Silence stretched between them, a thread held so taught it vibrated from the pressure. Green eyes scanned the hallway, it was empty. No clip of solider’s boots, no wisps of maids cleaning the halls. If he ran he would be stopped, he was much too small to outrun someone easily twice his size and four times his age. If he called for help no one would answer; this hallway of the citadel was empty during the evening, all conference rooms and offices abuzz only during working hours. If he refused, then Noctis would be in danger, and that was not an option, so he didn’t even spare it a thought.

“I agree to your terms.” His voice was steady and even, almost resigned in a way that a child shouldn’t understand. Even as he stood, back straight and eyes forward, minute tics gave him away. His arms, folded over a small stack of books he had been carrying, were now holding the tomes as if they would keep him buoyant in a raging sea. His knuckles were white, clinging to the pages like a shield. The man stood up with a smile that felt like soured syrup, sweet but coated in an ugly sickness. His hand came to rest against the young advisor’s back, pressing against him to direct him into an empty room. When the man locked the door after they both entered all Ignis could focus on was Noctis--this was just to keep him safe.

There were many things that a normal ten-year-old would never know: how to set a table for a formal dinner; the right order in which to greet foreign dignitaries; how to soothe the night terrors of a boy barely younger than himself; the feel of rough calloused, hands against soft, delicate skin; the burning shame of an unspeakable soreness; the bitter taste of an impossible secret. But Ignis had never been a normal child anyway, so he pushed his feelings aside, putting them into little boxes in his mind that never needed to be opened again. He thought it would be a one-time nightmare, 

It wasn’t.

By the time he was thirteen Ignis had completely mastered the ability to appear to be on top of everything. He organized Noctis’s schedule and made sure the prince attended royal gatherings both on-time and properly dressed. He made sure that the prince’s room was always clean and orderly, dirty clothes off the floor, and homework organized on the desk. Since Noctis was still so young, he had temporarily taken over his royal duties, attending meetings on his behalf and compiling notes and summaries for the boy to toss into a pile and ignore. When he wasn’t keeping track of the sleepy prince then he was teaching himself to cook, watching the chefs in the kitchen and taking notes, practicing on his own time and working to polish his skills to perfection. All of his private tutors were impressed with his recall and academics, exceeding even their highest expectations. The Crownsguard trainers were constantly taken aback by his flexibility and speed, making up for raw power in finesse, accuracy and strategy. And yet the tower was still starting to tilt.

“Remember, tomorrow you must be up at 7am sharp. Your father has breakfast planned for 8am and we’re expected to arrive on time, not late. Then after breakfast...Noctis, are you even listening?” Ignis’s glare was answered with a yawn and a slow blink of blue eyes. That was a no.

“Fine, get to bed. I will come tomorrow to wake you in time and make sure you are properly dressed. Now hurry to bed, if you stay up playing games I will have no sympathy for you in the morning.”

“Can you stay over? It’s lonely sometimes.” Noctis yawned again as he shuffled to his bed, nearly half asleep. The bed was easily large enough for the two of them even as Ignis was starting to hit the beginning of his growth spurt. The boy rubbing his eyes and looking up at him tugged at his heart but still he shook his head.

“I have standing plans for the evening, maybe another night. Sleep well, Noct.” The advisor could hear the unspoken question in the air as he turned off the lights on his way out. It was already past nine so how could he have plans? But it was a question that had to go unanswered. He closed and locked the door behind him, letting a sigh tumble from his lips as he felt the guilt overtake him, if only for a moment. It was a necessary evil. If not him, then Noctis, and he had to protect him. More than that, he was a teenager now, The Man (while he knew his name, now, he refused to connect the man seated on the council with the snake that held him by the heart) had to eventually lose interest. He was no longer the wide-eyed child with unblemished skin and a soft form. All predators had a preferred prey.

At first it had only been occasional, the man would appear and place his hand on Ignis’s shoulder, a sign, a warning. You or the prince. As he aged, the occasional had slowly morphed into the monthly. Like an invisible contract. They would lock eyes during a council meeting and the man would smile that revolting, syrupy sweet smile. And the barely teenaged advisor would nod with the smallest tilt of his head before averting his gaze for the rest of the meeting. He didn’t have to look up to know he was being undressed in the man’s mind.

“You’re late.” The words sloshed out between gritted teeth. He was drunk and he was angry. Ignis looked down at his watch to see he was early, not late. But he didn’t bother to make the correction; instead he just let himself be ushered inside an empty room. The lock was barely in place before he was thrown to the floor, the man’s body, heavy with drink and laziness, pressing him against the cold marble. He knew better than to fight when his attacker was drunk, it always ended with hard-to-explain bruises. And now he was at the age where he shared the locker room with the other trainees and he wasn’t about to muddle together a lie for a bite across his hip or thumb-shaped purple blooming on his neck. For Noctis, all of this for Noctis. The mantra continued in his head, trying to block out the would.

Ignis realized that his carefully constructed spire wasn’t as sturdy as he needed it to be by the time he turned fifteen. While he had become an expert at explaining odd bruises or sore muscles, always ready to wave away a strangely late night or rips in his clothing, he knew it was getting worse. He wasn’t naive enough to think that his actions, or inactions, were the only thing protecting his friend. Noctis wasn’t as much of a pushover as a lot of people seemed to believe and he could push back as hard as he got. And yet now the dynamic had changed. The threats had slowly twisted and morphed, coming out darker, more frightening on the other end. It was no longer ‘you or the prince’, those words long stale. Now the voice eating away at his compartmentalized feelings was smarter. If anything got out it would hurt Noctis’s name, letting his retainer get hurt and used right under his nose in his own citadel. It would cast shame and down on Ignis himself and his capabilities. And so the secret had to stay hidden.

“I will check over your homework tomorrow morning so try to get everything finished tonight. I will be in to wake you up so do get some sleep.”  
“You’re not going to stay and help?” Noctis looked up from the table that was covered with papers and textbooks, his mouth frowning but his eyes worried. He was too smart for his own good.

“I cannot take your tests for you so I will not do your homework for you. Finish it tonight and I will double check it in the morning.” Again the question remained unspoken. Why are you leaving so early? It was nearly weekly now, the advisor would suddenly excuse himself and disappear for the evening, leaving plans suddenly adjusted at the last moment. There had to be a way to make this stop but he couldn't find the right pieces in his mind just yet. As he locked the door behind him, he walked with purpose, his body on auto-pilot.

There had to be a way to get out from under this shadow before it continued to grow. His excuses were starting to grow thin. It was no longer an empty office that he found himself trapped inside of but an apartment. The lights of Insomnia bounced off his glasses as if trying to break the spell. By now it was muscle memory, turn left at the corner and walk down to the third building to the right. It was in a very nice area, flowers blooming in planters out in front and up the walkway. Bells on the outside to ring so that tenants can remotely unlock the door. A very nice place. Even if the air felt like shattered glass on his skin as he pressed the button labeled “#4” in glossy, golden letters.

The door clicked in a familiar way and the teenager slowly pulled the metal handle of the glass door. It’s here, in the brightly lit lobby that his body told him to flee. To run or call someone or just scream. But instead he walks up the stairs and stops outside the black door that’s nestled just up the first flight. Again the golden “4” stars at him like it’s taunting him. Ignis rapped his knuckles against the door, short and to the point, waiting only a moment before the door opened for him. Prey walking directly into a predator’s path.

The stretch of cheap beer and smoke was overpowering and immediately the teenager knew he’d need to wash his clothes. The thought barely entered his mind before hands grabbed his shoulders and threw him to the floor. He landed on his shoulder in just a way to hear a loud snap as it slid out of place and then back in immediately, wringing out a quiet cry from his mouth.

“Shut up!” The man grabbed his uninjured shoulder and forcibly turned him, quickly pressing a knee into the small of his back.

“You want someone to come in here? You know what would happen, don’tcha? If anyone finds out that the prince’s little shadow is a slut it ain’t gonna look good for him. What kinda prince can’t even protect his friends? What kind of advisor turns on his back the moment someone asks?” A deep throated chuckle vibrates through the man’s body and causes Ignis to shiver. He was right. Even without the threat he knew he needed to stay quiet. It was the only thing that was sewing his mouth shut. He wanted to tell someone, anyone, he wanted it to stop.

In no time at all he felt his pants being forced down over his hips. He tried to block off the sensations of skin ghosting over his hips. He had too to put himself somewhere else, to focus on anything else but the pain, the pressure. Sometimes in the locker room he could feel Gladio’s eyes slide down over his body as he changed. Faded bruises in places they shouldn’t be, stiffness in muscles he wasn’t using for training. And it was at those times that his mind would scream to him that he needed to speak up. He prayed to the Six that Gladio would say something, anything. He could feel the question hanging between them. But it never ghosted the shield’s lips and so Ignis didn’t dare try to answer it.

He knew he couldn't say anything, he had to rely on himself and nothing more. But he was too deep in this grave to climb out alone. There was a sudden pressure on his throat and he panicked, bringing his hands up to try to pull the belt away from his neck. But that only caused the man to roar behind him in drunken anger. He pressed in harder, deeper, more erratic and it took all of his focus to stay silent and keep the tears at bay.

“Does your prince fuck you like this too? Or is it only me that sees this side of you, huh? I bet he doesn’t have the balls to try.” The boy under him wanted to snap back at the insult to his friend but he didn't, instead forcing his fingers under the belt to give himself just another ounce of air. Normally the man only used his hands, so the belt was a new struggle and only pulled tighter as the man lost all sense of rhythm and just started to move with angry abandon. Black spots began forming in Ignis’s vision as he tried too, somehow, weasel his way out of the restraint. But it was too late. He wasn’t sure if the sudden burn in his chest was from panic, the lack of air, or the final death throes of a broken spirit as his vision went black.

By the time he was sixteen he knew this had to end. It was getting harder and harder to cover up the marks and not even Ebony was keeping him awake through the day. He could feel the fortress of deceit that he’d built up, protecting him from prying eyes, starting to crumple in on itself, on him. And he had to get out from under it, to protect Noctis from the fallout.

“We’re done.” He waited until the apartment door closed behind him, against his better judgement, but part of him knew that this would turn into a shouting match. His voice was sharp and clipped, carrying a dagger’s edge.

“I am through putting up with your actions. You will leave me alone from this moment on and you will not reveal what happened here or back-” He doesn’t even finish his rehearsed threat before he had to stagger backwards, a half empty bottle of liquor thrown at his face.

“It’s not up to you, you little slut. Now get on your knees or I’ll tell your prince all the dirty things we do.” As he spoke the man opened his own pants, slipping his hand through the fly and pulling himself out, as if it was some sort of temptation. Bile rose in the back of Ignis’s throat but he swallowed it, hardening his will.

“As I was saying I will not tolerate your behavior any longer. I am going to report you to the authorities for child abuse.” He snapped his back straight, intending to end the conversation with that. But the man was between him and the door and no matter how much he wanted to run him through with a dagger, that was both illegal and would be a large black mark against Noctis and his judge of character.

Hazy, drunken eyes watched him but the man moved aside, letting him pass to the door. It almost seemed too easy. Could he really just walk away? With a curt nod he moved to walk by, reaching out for the silver knob. The teenager vaughly recognized the sound of a loud crack and pressure but then everything went black.

The first thing that Ignis noticed as he started to return to consciousness was that something was very, very wrong. But what exactly was wrong took a few moments to register. He remembered going to the apartment, he was going to end it today. And yet this wasn’t the apartment. Even behind his closed eyes he could tell that there were bright, painfully fluorescent lights bearing down on him. The back of his mind had already put the pieces together but he wanted to ignore the conclusion that he was coming too. As his eyelids flickered due to the light which was enough to be noticed. There was a sudden screech and a crash, a chair being tossed to the ground as the person sitting in it shot to their feet.

“Iggy!”  
“Specs!” The two voices screamed out one after another, swallowing each other in their panic. This was the worst possible outcome, Ignis decided in his head. Not only was in a hospital bed but both Gladio and Noctis were here. There was no pretending to be asleep now, not with them both anxiously hovering over the bed. Steeling himself for the fallout, he slowly opened his eyes, blinking back the harsh white lights. It was only after a few moments that he realized there was a slight blur to the other side of the room which meant his glasses were elsewhere.

“Iggy, you’re awake! Are you okay?!” Noctis sounded so small as his hands wrapped around Ignis’s own. Any venom to the fact that clearly he was not okay drowned in his mouth before he could even speak. Those blue eyes were watching him with the panic of someone who had lost too many people they loved already.

“I am fine. Although not entirely sure why I am here.” Noctis’s eyes flickered up to his head and Ignis raised his free hand. There were bandages across his head. Oh dear. Before he could ask any further questions the bed dipped, Gladio leaning his frame against the edge.

“Hey Charmless, wanna get him some water?” The prince was about to retort when his eyes bounced between the two. He was young but he wasn’t stupid. The fourteen year old huffed but nodded, letting go with something Ignis could only describe as a pout as he walked out of the hospital room. Once the door clicked closed he could feel the behemoth rise in the shield’s chest.

“What the hell is going on with you?” If people thought Gladio’s size was intimidating they had never heard him upset. His voice cut like his sword, both sharp and heavy enough to crush his heart. His amber eyes were dancing with anger and worry, the two emotions battling for dominance across his entire form.

“Noth-”  
“Shut up. I’ve held my tongue for too long. Who’s hurting you?” The words twisted in the advisor’s gut, his tower of lies crushing him under the weight. He kept his face cold, blank, stoic, he had too. He always had to. Slowly he let out a breath, as if reminding himself that he needed to breathe.

“Gladio, it’s not as bad-” Again he got cut off, the entire bed rattling as Gladio slammed his first into the metal frame.

“Do you want to know how I found you?” Ignis snapped his mouth shut before he could answer. Did he want to know? No. But at the same time he had to know what sort of damage control he needed to do. He licked his dry lips, answering only in a wordless nod.

“You’re lucky it was me, ya know. I was just out on a run late at night so it could have been anyone. You were slumped over in an ally, I didn’t even know it was you until I got close.” Gladio paused, letting out an unsteady breath. Ignis tried not to stare, he’d never seen Gladio look so unsettled before. “There was blood all over, across your face, on the ground, your neck. I thought someone beat you to death. The docs said it was all from the head wound. But…”

Gladio paused again and Ignis almost asked him to stop. He didn’t want to hear the rest. And yet he made no move to stop the other.

“Your shirt was ripped open, Ripped, literally, like some kind of animal got to it. Your pants were at your knees and…”

“You can stop there. I can surmise the rest.” Ignis was impressed at how calm his own voice sounded. “I have nothing further to say.” His mind was screaming at him that he wanted out, this was out. If he just gave the name, even if he just pointed him out, he knew Gladio would take the man down and no one would find the body. While the shield was loyal to the prince, the three of them were a unit. A unit that liked to butt heads, but there was an unexplainable bond between them.

“Iggy…”  
“Gladio I can’t. It is a very delicate situation.” He intended to leave it at that but the guard placed his hand on Ignis’s shoulder and gave a tight squeeze.

“Ignis, don’t. I know what you’re doing, you’re trying to take on the world by yourself. If you want to protect Noctis don’t tell him, but tell me. Next time…” The door clacked open again and the prince walked in holding a water bottle. The conversation slipped into silence as Ignis thanked the boy and took it, giving Gladio no more than a sideways glance as if to tell him the conversation was over. Forever.

“We’re talking about this later.” And with that the shield left, slamming the door shut behind him so hard it quivered on its track. Noctis made a small noise but opted to let the matter settle, instead climbing onto the bed and nudging himself in the space between Ignis and the edge of the bed. He reached out a hand that the advisor happily took, squeezing it slightly before both of them drifted back to sleep.

After a few weeks of awkward tension, Ignis had determined that Gladio was willing to let the matter die in silence. The two of them were suddenly avoiding each other when they could and dancing around each other when they had to be in the same room. It was awkward, uneasy, but it worked. Gladio didn’t say a word and Ignis didn’t tempt him to do so. He was more careful when he changed after practice and made sure that all of his shirts were buttoned up to the top. There was nothing for anyone to see, anyone to fuss over. It had to be this way.

“You haven’t been showing up.” Night had just fallen a few hours ago and the teenaged advisor was just leaving his office when the familiar voice cut into his thoughts. Just as he locked the door the council member waddled over, his body puffed out with frustration and an attempt to intimidate. When Ignis was a child the man had been slightly terrifying. Now they were about the same height and while the other was wider, Ignis knew he had the advantage in speed, training, and skill. He was no longer afraid for his life, only for Noctis’s reputation.

“I told you, our...contract is over.” He pushed his glasses up on his face with a sigh even if they needed no adjustment. As the man thudded closer he listened. The halls were empty, just like before. This time he could run, easily. He had no doubt he would be able to outmaneuver a man who carried his bad habits on his frame. But where could he run too? The back of his mind was again reminding him that his friends existed but he ignored the voice. He had to solve this alone, to clean it all up before anyone even glanced at the mess.

“And I told you that it’s not, you little brat. Didn’t last time show you that I was serious?!” He howled drunkenly, his voice reverberating through the hallway. “If you think that was all I can do, you’re dead wrong. I’m on the king’s royal council, I can do whatever the hell I want to do! Now get on your knees!” Ignis scoffed at both the comment and the implication. He didn’t move, standing still with his back to the door of his office.

“In case you forgot, I am on the council as well.” Ignis huffed out with a little more annoyance to his voice than he intended. He narrowed his green eyes, making sure to show that he was not at all afraid of the man. Instead of causing the other to shrink back, like he hoped, though, the sickening smile had returned to his lips. He pulled out something from his back pocket, a phone. His eyes didn’t leave Ignis as he slowly raised it, shoving the screen towards the advisor. Across the glowing phone was a sickening display. It was his own body, unconscious on what looked like the apartment bed. His shirt was ripped open and his pants were hanging off one leg. The picture was just dark enough to hide any explicit details but it was clear that his legs were wide and around another man’s hips.

Anger and shame burned together in the teenager’s chest. The man swiped across the screen with a grimy finger and another picture slipped onto the screen. This time it was a close up of his face with his mouth...occupied. Ignis couldn’t help but force his gaze away from a photograph of his own pained face. He never realized the other had been taking pictures.

“I’ve got more where that came from. And guess what? On button and these pictures go out. Out where? Everywhere. To the king, to every media outlet that I could find their number. Everywhere will know what kind of whore the prince keeps company with. Now that’s the kind of scandal that no one can ever really get away from, don’tcha think? Prince’s right hand man shamefully getting around with random men.” The man bellowed with laughter, his rotten smile twisting into the look of a predator with his prey caught between his claws.

Now was time to think. How to get out of this? He needed to get that phone away from him. But right now the man had a deathgrip on the electronic and there was no way to wrench it free without hurting him. And if he could avoid it, he had too. As much as he hoped the king would take his side in the matter, there was no way to know for sure. He just needed to make the man lower his guard. He watched every twitch of his opponent, waiting for a moment. But the man wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He kept the phone by his side, ready to pull away if Ignis made any attempt to reach for it. Since he felt he had won, the man was overconfident. He reached out and dug his fingers into Ignis’s hair, pulling down, hard. With a quiet grunt the boy relented, letting the other force him down onto his knees. His knees hit the floor, hard, making a loud thud against the marble. Green eyes watched the phone as it slowly vanished behind the man’s back, he was probably putting it in a back pocket. All he had to do was distract him. And there was one very easy way to do that.

As expected, the man reached with his now-free hand and unbuttoned his pants. His left hand was still buried in light brown hair, holding so tightly that he was pulling at the roots. He pulled Ignis towards the now open pants, an unspoken order. All he could focus on was that this was going to be the last time, the last humiliation, the last he would degrade himself like this. And Noctis never had to know.

By the time he was ‘done’ Ignis was pretty sure that the inside of his mouth was bruised and that some of his hair had been ripped from his skull. With a disgusted hiss of breath he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, glaring up at the face of a satisfied hunter.

“Now now, don’t give me that face.” He laughed as he spoke, pulling out the phone again. “Well then, time to send these out.” In the heat of the moment the teenager didn’t even think, he just reacted: he sprang up from his knees, reaching out and grabbing the other’s wrist in his hand with enough force to actually shove the much larger man back. He used the moment of shock across the man’s face to his advantage, yanking the wrist towards him with a twist to the right and grabbing the phone with his free hand. Ignis pocketed the phone right away so that it was out of sight and much harder to get back.

“You bastard! Give it back! Fine, I’m done with you anyway, you’re too boring. Time to play with the little prince.”  
“Don’t you dare touch Noctis!” As the man tried to turn away Ignis lunged forward, grabbing his shirt and forcing him into the wall with the full weight of his body. The loud thump of the bull of a man against the wall reverberated down the empty hall.

“You think I’m scared? You’re nothing more than a kid, given a fancy title because no one knew what to do with you. Your place is on your knees. If I wanna fuck with the little prince I will. And you won’t sto-” The last words morphed into a wet gurgle. Without thinking, without even processing what his body was doing, Ignis had summoned one of his daggers to his hand and swiped it across the man’s throat. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Blood spurt from the now slashed neck as his body slowly slid down the wall, landing in a heap at Ignis’s feet like a broken doll.

Slowly he released his white-knuckled grip on the dagger, letting it vanish as he let go. There was now a dead councilman at his feet and blood across his face and shirt. While the hallway, and much of the Citadel, was empty this time of night that didn’t mean he knew what to do with a man who weighed at least twice of himself. But now wasn’t the time to panic.

“Iggy?” His head snapped up at the sudden voice, turning his head to face the source of the deep sound. Gladio. Against the white walls the other boy’s form stood out like a storm on the horizon. Normally the worry laced in his voice would be a balm but now it only caused Ignis to try to rewind his plan. They stood in a painful silence, amber eyes slowly taking in every detail of the scene. He started with Ignis, standing there pale and disheveled, his hair a twisted mess, glasses sitting too low on his nose and his pants and shirt rumpled. That alone was sending off more alarm bells then the slowly drying red stain across the floor and across the front of the advisor’s clothing.

“I had too. He...Noct…” Ignis hated how unsteady and quiet his voice sounded in that moment.

“Do you want help cleaning up?” Millions of questions spun through Gladio’s mind at the sight before him but he didn’t ask them. Now wasn’t the time. He knew Ignis well enough to put together the puzzle from the pieces he had. The younger slowly nodded, stepping aside just enough. Gladio walked up, stepping in between his friend and the lump that had once been a man. His neck was still slowly oozing blood, making a slick pool around Ignis’s scuffed dress shoes. Slowly the shield shifted the corpse, picking him up in a way to try and limit the blood still draining out.

“I’ll take care of this, you clean up. I’m not going to ask any questions but if you want to give me answers, I want to listen.” Gladio spoke softly, showing a gentleness that his gruff exterior didn’t indicate that he possessed.

“Thank you. Maybe, maybe another time. I appreciate it.” Ignis spoke with a voice much more clipped and steady than he would have expected of himself. As Gladio left he carefully slipped away just long enough to collect cleaning supplies and change clothes, leaving the hall more spotless after he was done than before the encounter even started. After that night they forged an unspoken trust, an unbreakable bond shared between them. They would do anything to protect their prince.


End file.
